


Forgiveness

by jakia



Series: Essek Week [7]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Brotherly Love, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mighty Nein as Family, Modern AU, TW: Homophobia, TW: Outing, boys crying about feelings, most of the trigger warnings are implied not explicit but I feel the need to warn regardless, religious conservative family trauma, tw: implied transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:29:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23479249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jakia/pseuds/jakia
Summary: No one from Essek’s side of the family was likely to come to his wedding, except for Verin, and it was that thought that gave him the courage to open the door.[modern AU; Verin attends the Shadowgast wedding. HEED the tags, please. For Essek Week Day Seven: AU]
Relationships: Essek Thelyss & Verin Thelyss, Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast
Series: Essek Week [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1682107
Comments: 22
Kudos: 417
Collections: Essek Week





	Forgiveness

He’s late.

He shouldn’t have come at this point, but something keeps tugging at him, making him move forward despite the rain of the city and his general tardiness. Perhaps it’s the fact that he bought a gift that makes him keep moving, or maybe it’s the fact that he hasn’t seen Essek in three years, or any number of reasons, but his feet keep moving, and he doesn’t stop.

When he arrives at the location his GPS tells him is the venue, he hesitates even as his hand is on the door.

_It’s not_ _a church_ , Verin thinks, smiling in spite of himself. _Mother would have_ ** _kittens_** _if she knew Essek was getting married not in a church._

She'd have a conniption over the fact that he's marrying a man, too, of course. Not that she was coming to the wedding. No one from Essek’s side of the family was likely to come to his wedding, except for Verin, and it was that thought that gave him the courage to open the door. 

At first, he wonders if he’s wandered into the wrong location, if he perhaps misread the invitation he received. But a quick glance tells him that, no, this is the right location. The planetarium looks like a garden exploded in it: there are flowers _everywhere_ , and none of them match. But the chaos actually sort of works, aesthetically, as all of the flowers seem to glow with the night sky overhead. 

He’s like, the _only_ drow here, but the place is _packed_ with people dancing and drinking. He tries to see if he can spot his brother anywhere, but before he gets too far there is a blue tiefling in his face.

“Hi!” She says to him, very bubbly. She looks like a princess, wearing a bright pink sparkly dress and a tiara. Across her chest is a sash that says _Maid of Honor._ “Are you related to Essek?”

He blinks at her, slowly. “I am. Is he, ah, still here…?”

“He is,” she bounces on her tiptoes, still grinning. He realizes suddenly that she is wearing matching pink converse shoes as opposed to heels. Another thing Mother would have a fit over, he thinks.

“Can I, uh, _see_ him, or…”

He feels a large, rough hand on his shoulder, and he turns and finds himself staring at a very tall, pink haired firbolg. “We just want to have a little conversation, first.”

“I’m sure you are a very nice guy!” The tiefling tells him, still bouncing slightly. “But Essek said a lot of his family are dicks, so we just wanna check.”

“Yeah,” comes a new voice, and he turns to find a dark skinned human woman in a blue suit. She is also wearing a sash, although her’s says _Caleb’s Best Friend Fuck Gender._ “We just wanna make sure you aren’t here to start shit. Say something homophobic or something fucked up on his wedding day.”

A part of him feels warm on his brother’s behalf. The Essek he used to know never had friends who would stand up for him like this. He blinks slowly, and tries to find a kind smile within himself. “I’m not our mother,” he tells the three friends of Essek, and hopes it’s enough to convey his sincerity. 

The firbolg slaps him on the back. “Good enough for me!” He points in the general direction of the center of the room. “He’s dancing with his husband.”

He wanders, for a little bit, but he still doesn’t see his brother. Instead, he decided to amuse himself by counting how many other people are wearing sashes like the tiefling and the woman in the suit. The firbolg is wearing one, too, he realizes, only his is on backwards; it says _Made of Tea._ There is a halfling in a yellow dress who has a sash that says _Mama Bear._ A half-orc wearing a ridiculous pirate hat whose sash says _Best Captain._ An incredibly buff woman with dark hair is dancing with a purple tiefling in a dress, and both of them are wearing sashes, too. The woman’s sash says _Made of Honor (Also Guns)_ while the tiefling’s says _Best Dead._ The woman dips the tiefling as part of their dance, and the tiefling immediately cracks a joke in someone’s direction, which is how Verin finds his brother.

No wonder he couldn’t find Essek at first. He hardly looks like himself. Gone is the quiet boy who used to hide up in his room, or when forced out into public, hid behind several layers of thick robes. Instead he’s dancing in the center of the room, and the center of everyone’s attention, too. His brother wears a silk white halter top that sparkles in the starlight. Verin thinks it may be slightly translucent, too, but he’s too far to tell at this distance. His top is tucked into high waisted dark trousers with shiny gold buttons on them. Unlike many of the women here, his brother is wearing high heels, and more makeup than most of the women, too. He wears gold eyeliner and thick purple and blue eyeshadow, but it looks nice on him. Makes him look ethereal, which, Verin thinks, might have been the theme.

The man Essek is dancing with is half a head taller than his brother, and human, too, from the looks of him. He looks like a wizard, Verin thinks, which is sort of a ridiculous outfit to wear to a wedding, but it kind of works for him. He wears a long, light blue cape, robe thing? But the top half of it is sparkly, woven with silver thread to look like stardust. The man’s hair is very long and a vivid red, going down past his shoulders, but it’s been braided in an elaborate French braid, with bright flowers woven into his hair. 

He’s also wearing makeup, Verin notices and grins. A light blue eyeshadow.

The song they are dancing to ends, and the newly wedded couple kiss, and Verin turns away immediately so he’s not looking at them, like they’ve done something embarrassing. Shame sinks into the bottom of his stomach as he does so, and he feels himself flush with anger and embarrassment. _This is Essek’s_ **_wedding_** , he tells himself. _There’s nothing wrong with him kissing his husband._

_Why is it so_ **_hard_ ** _to unlearn every toxic thing Mother ever taught me?_ Verin thinks, ashamed of himself. His hands grip the present he brought tightly, and he turns to try to find the gift table, to put what he brought there and then go home, and of course, that’s when Essek spots him.

“ _Verin?_ ” his brother calls to him, so he stops and turns to face him. His brother looks so shocked right now, it’s hard to read any other expression on his face; Verin can’t tell if he’s happy to see him, or angry, or both. “You _came?_ ”

“You invited me,” Verin says sheepishly, although he knows that’s not a good excuse. They’ve not seen each other in three years. Part of that is on Essek; he left the family in a storm of anger and hurt, but part of it is on Verin, too. He didn’t reach out to him, even after Verin left the family, too. 

“I invited the whole Den,” Essek says, gesturing around the room as if to point out the distinct lack of drow here. Most people are still dancing, but a few have stopped to watch his and Essek’s conversation; most of the people with sashes, he notices. “But they didn’t seem to make it.”

There’s so much Verin wants to say, then. He wants to say _I’m sorry_ , he wants to say _I was bigger and stronger. I should have protected you from them._ He wants to say _I’m trying to be a better person now_ and _I should have contacted you sooner_ and _it’s so hard, unlearning everything they taught us, how did you do it?_ And _did you know Father **died** , the night you left? _

But he doesn’t, can’t seem to find a way to make any of those words come out of his throat. The room is too crowded and too hot, so instead, he deflects. “Perhaps their invitations got lost in the mail?”

His comment causes Essek to grin. “All seven hundred and eleven of them, huh?”

“Seven hundred and thirteen,” Verin corrects with a gentle smile, his nerves vanishing with the familiar banter he’s missed from his brother. “Cousin Gwylyss’s wife had twins two years ago.”

“Those poor kids,” Essek muses. “I hope they don’t take after their father.”

“Oh, they absolutely do,” or at least, they did, before Verin left, too. 

Essek practically doubles over with laughter, and when he stops laughing he smiles sharply at Verin, fangs poking out of his lips. “Did you know, Great Aunt Beszrima sent me a wedding gift? It’s just money, but it was still a surprise.”

Now it’s Verin’s turn to practically double over. “Did she _really?_ ”

“Oh yes. My theory is that the old bat saw the name _Thelyss_ on a wedding invitation and sent money without looking any closer at it.”

Both brothers are laughing now, a shared joke no one else gets, and it’s so _nice_ , he’s missed this so much. This connection, the shared past and the shared trauma. For a moment, they are just two brothers laughing at their extended family, and they can pretend that three years ago, Verin didn’t accidentally out his older brother to their religious, conservative family. That the fight that broke out between Essek and their father hadn’t turned violent. That, when the storm finally broke, both Essek and their father left, and the next time Verin saw their father he was in a casket, and he thought for years the next time he’d see Essek, he’d be in one, too.

His thoughts sober him up quickly. 

“I’m sorry,” he says to Essek. 

It’s not enough, it won’t ever be enough, but he doesn’t know what else to _say_. How can you apologize for not knowing any better? He was young and stupid and impulsive, but that’s not an _excuse_. How do you apologize for ruining someone’s life without realizing it?

But he doesn’t get the chance to say anything further, because Essek is doing something he’s not done in _years_ , and hugging him, arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

He sobs before he can stop himself, and Essek is crying, too, he thinks, because he can feel the wetness on his jacket. He wraps his arms around Essek's back and hugs him tightly, sobbing because he feels too much.

“Enough of that,” Essek says shakily, pulling away. His makeup is smudged and runny, and he is trying, _desperately_ , to stop crying. “It’s my wedding day. I’m not going to cry any more.”

Verin makes no such promises, and wipes his eyes on his jacket sleeve. 

There’s a gentle hand on Essek’s shoulder, and the man he was dancing with earlier--his husband, Verin thinks--hands Essek a handkerchief without saying anything, although Verin can tell he’s been watching their exchange like a hawk. “Oh _fuck_ ,” Essek says, laughing as he blows his nose into the handkerchief. “Verin, would you like to meet my husband?”

“Of course. That's why I came,” Verin says, holding his hand out, wishing he looked less like a mess. “Verin Thelyss. Essek is my big brother.”

“Caleb Widogast,” the husband says, shaking his hand. The Zemnian accent is a surprise, but then again, Verin doesn’t know what he expected Essek’s husband to sound like. “Essek is my husband.”

Verin holds his head down, shame filling him again slightly. “I’m sorry I missed the ceremony.”

“It’s okay,” Caleb Widogast tells him with a soft smile. “Better late than never. We are glad you are here.”

“We _are_ ,” Essek assures him. He grabs Verin’s hand, and squeezes it gently. “I am so _glad_ to see you again.”

Verin cries again, and squeezes Essek’s hand back. “There’s so much I’d like to say,” he says, his voice cracking as he speaks. “But I don’t want to ruin your wedding.”

“You wouldn’t,” Essek assures him, and squeezes his hand back. “You _haven’t_.”

“I think,” Essek’s husband looks around, and Verin notices suddenly that they are in a closed circle of people--all the people he noticed wearing sashes, the people who must make up the wedding party. They are circling them to give them _privacy_ , he realizes suddenly, and he feels overwhelmed with gratitude towards these strangers who must love his brother so very much. “That perhaps, if you two wished to talk more privately, we could provide a distraction.”

_Caleb’s Best Friend Fuck Gender_ whistles. “We are _very_ good at distractions.”

_Best Dead_ smiles sharply with his fangs pointing. “Something of our specialty, you might say.”

_Mama Bear_ wiggles her fingers. “Chaos crew.”

“Go on then,” Essek’s-- _Caleb_ , Verin corrects himself, tells them, squeezing Essek’s shoulder. “We’ll find you later.”

Then a firecracker goes off (where did that even _come_ from?) and people are shouting and running about, and Essek drags his brother off to talk, privately, for the first time in three years, and it feels, a little bit, like forgiveness. 


End file.
